


A Time to Rise

by dimerization



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dry Humping, Erratic Updates, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimerization/pseuds/dimerization
Summary: What if Corvo Attano never left Serkonos?  What if he met someone there instead, and stayed for her?  What kind of man would he be?This an AU of my AU, a companion to my other Dishonored fic, 'A Time to Fall'.  (You don't have to read that fic in order to understand this one, though.)  Corvo falls in love in his early years in the Duke's Grand Guard, and marries instead of leaving Karnaca.  This is pure fluff and porn -- romance between a couple of 19 year olds, and eventually kidfic, if I get that far.  Please don't expect regular updates; I'm writing this for fun as a break from editing the other fic.  There's no real story here as yet, but it's naughty, so I thought I'd share.  I hope you enjoy.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	A Time to Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing Spain/Mexico!Serkonos in this fic too, because I do make the rules. Please expect odd Spanish here and there. Translations will be posted by chapter.
> 
> To wit:  
> Querido/a = dearest, darling

Every year in Serkonos, there are festivals on the anniversary of the sitting Duke’s coronation. It is always a bank holiday, and many workplaces are closed as people celebrate in the streets. In Karnaca, the capitol city, the state funds festivities for nobles and common folk alike. Guard work on Coronation Day is a short-straw job – everyone wants to leave early for once and have some fun before the free wine dries up. It tends to come down to seniority.

This is Corvo’s second Coronation Day in the Grand Guard, and luck is with him: he gets the night off. Duke Theodanis was crowned in high summer, and Corvo had spent the day at the palace, sweltering under the hot Serkonan sun, but the night is mercifully cool. He opens his scarlet coat as he walks, undoing the collar of his shirt to let the breeze cool his skin. There are lights strung up in the streets, and he can hear music. Corvo smiles.

Soon he’s wending his way through a laughing, chattering crowd. Vendors hawk churros and fried crickets on the corners; Corvo acquires a cup of wine from a genially bellowing man who carries a keg bearing the Duke’s seal. Children dash through the crowd, laughing and shouting to each other. Corvo isn’t carrying anything valuable; festivals are a pickpocket’s paradise. He even left his sword back at the barracks.

The crowd parts around the fountain in the center of the square. There is a clear space beside it. Corvo spots a drummer, a woman with a fiddle, and someone else with an accordion. He can hear a trumpet too, but he can’t see it. All around the band, people are dancing.

Everyone is out in their festival best. The fashion in Karnaca lately among the lower classes is bright colors and loose skirts, and the women whirl through the steps of the dance like flowers caught on the breeze. Corvo sees two girls dancing hand in hand, an old woman with her surprisingly spry husband, a laughing pair of young men only a little older than him turning under each other’s arms. The tangle of dancers shifts and turns and people clap in time with the music, or whoop in appreciation whenever someone does a particularly spectacular lift or complicated step. The wine tingles in his cheeks and fingertips – he hasn’t eaten yet, and the alcohol is going right through him. Lantern-light sparkles golden through the water falling from the fountain head. Corvo finds he is tapping his foot in time to the music.

“Hey!” Someone grabs a fistful of his coat. Corvo looks down, surprised.

There’s a girl in front of him, suddenly – eighteen? Nineteen? About his age. She has vivid brown eyes and a wild mane of curly, black hair tumbling loose around her expressive face. She wears a blouse embroidered with tiny flowers; it’s slipping down a little over one shoulder. Her skirt is gold and scarlet. Her cheeks are flushed from drinking, or maybe dancing – probably both, he thinks. She smiles when he meets her eyes.

“Come dance with me,” she says.

“Really?” The word slips out before he can stifle it. Corvo hopes he isn’t blushing. The girl grins at him and grabs his hand.

“It’ll be fun. Come on!” She tugs at him. Corvo shrugs a shoulder, then tosses back the rest of his wine and sets the cup on the rim of the fountain. He lets her pull him out of the crowd.

The tune is a common one, well-known to him, the steps of the dance as old as Serkonos itself, maybe. Corvo grabs the girl’s waist with his other hand and whirls her into it, and she follows his lead gracefully, her feet as practiced as his. They clasp hands and turn together, pulling close, then apart, and then Corvo is holding her waist again as they step in time. He guides them both among the other dancers, half-afraid he’ll step on her feet – he’s wearing the heavy guardsman’s boots, and she has on only sandals, but she knows the dance as well as he does and there’s no trouble at all. The girl is breathless and smiling up at him, one hand clasped in his, the other on his bicep. The trumpet skirls and he spins her under one arm, her skirt flaring out around her, bright as a flame, and then she’s close again, stepping back as he moves forward.

“Lift?” he says to her – or half-shouts, rather, over the din of the crowd.

“Yes!” She grins at him. Then the music rises up and Corvo wraps his hands around her waist and lifts her off the ground, spinning her easily, and her skirt whirls around them like bright water and she puts her hands on his shoulders and throws back her head and laughs for the sheer joy of it. The lantern-light brushes so tenderly over her throat and clavicle, the softness of her breasts; Corvo can feel her laughter against his hands where he holds her up. Around him the crowd is cheering, and he realizes they are cheering for him, and for the girl he dances with. But the music is settling back into its regular rhythm for the final verse, so he sets her down lightly and she catches his hands in hers for the final steps: a turn, together, then apart, then together again.

The song ends and she grins up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“I knew you’d be good!” she says. She doesn’t let go of him. Her mouth is wide and full, as brightly expressive as the rest of her face. Her teeth are a little crooked, but she doesn’t seem to care, with a grin that wide.

“What’s your name?” Corvo asks.

“María! What’s yours?”

“I’m Corvo,” he says.

“Corvo.” His name slips so gently over her tongue. “Are you in the Grand Guard?” But the music is starting up again.

“Another dance?” Corvo asks her.

“Yes!”

They bow out after two more songs, both a little out of breath. Corvo gets them both more wine, and returns to find María with a packet of candied almonds that she insists on sharing with him but refuses to let him pay for. They sit on a low wall at the edge of the square and talk.

“Are you in the Grand Guard?” she asks again.

“Yes,” Corvo says, munching on an almond. María sips her wine.

“You’re so young to be an officer,” she says, and brushes the sleeve of his coat with her fingertips. Corvo shrugs.

“Ooh, the strong and silent type, huh?” María teases. Corvo snorts.

“I won the Blade Verbena three years ago. Gave me a leg up,” he says.

“I _heard_ about that! Some fifteen year old kid…”

“Sixteen,” Corvo corrects.

“That was really you?” She looks impressed in spite of herself. Corvo tries and fails not to preen a little. María pokes him in the leg with her toes.

“You must be pretty good with your _sword_ , huh?” she says archly, and Corvo blushes, and curses himself for blushing. He’s always been fucking _terrible_ at flirting and he _hates_ that about himself. Why can’t he just be suave, like Sergio – 

“María! María!” someone calls, and María looks up and waves.

“Rosi!” she says. Another girl comes tumbling out of the crowd. She’s shorter than María, and rather stout, her glossy brown hair in a complicated twist at the back of her head. Some locks have come free and they frame her round face prettily. Her blouse is embroidered with little green leaves, and her skirt is patterned in vivid pink.

“You did it!” Rosi says.

“ _Rosi,_ be _quiet,”_ María hisses.

“Did what?” says Corvo. Now it’s María’s turn to blush, but she says nothing and turns her face away, so Corvo looks up at her friend, who is smiling mischievously.

“I dared her to ask you to dance,” Rosi says.

“Rosita Dolores Pérez! We’re not _friends_ anymore!” María cries, covering her face with her hands. Rosi just laughs.

“She said you were too beautiful not to be dancing,” Rosi says to Corvo. _Beautiful?_ Corvo thinks, wide-eyed. “So I dared her to ask you, and then she actually did it! _And_ she had fun.”

“I am going to kill you,” María mumbles into her hands. Corvo just looks at her. _She thinks I’m beautiful?_ People have told him he’s pretty before, or handsome, but only a few. Mostly he’s just so shy and odd – he never really fits in – although Sergio said – 

“Rosi!” And here’s another girl, tall, wearing a blue guardsman’s coat unbuttoned like Corvo’s. She has close-cropped golden hair and a crooked smile. She slings an arm over Rosi’s shoulders.

“Come dance with me,” she says, kissing Rosi’s cheek. Then she notices Corvo. He’s sure he’s seen her before, but he can’t place her.

“Hey, I know you. Attano, right?” she says. Corvo nods, desperately trying to remember a name. But she just holds out a hand for him to shake.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lila Pérez,” she says. Corvo shakes her hand gratefully.

“Nice to meet you,” he says.

“Lila, take her away before I murder her,” María begs. Lila just laughs.

“I have been _nothing_ but helpful,” Rosi protests.

“Come on, querida.” Lila tugs the other woman back towards the dancing. “Let’s dance.”

“See you later, María! Have fun!” Rosi says, winking, and then they melt back into the crowd. Corvo is looking at María again. _Beautiful,_ he thinks. She peeks up at him over her fingers.

“I _will_ kill her,” she says. What little he can see of her face is scarlet with embarrassment. He tries on a smile. It feels pretty good, actually.

“Don’t,” he says. With his heart in his throat, he reaches out to curl his fingers around her wrist, tugging her hand down. Her hand is so small in his.

“I think you’re beautiful, too,” he says. María’s soft mouth makes a little _oh_ of surprise for a moment, and her eyes go wide. Corvo’s stomach sinks: he’s ruined it, hasn’t he? But then she grabs him by his lapels, and kisses him on the lips.

It feels like flying. The festival falls away around him; there’s nothing left but María. He smells sweat on her skin, sharp and sensual. Her lips taste of cinnamon-sugar and wine. Corvo tangles his fingers in her hair, his breath coming hard. Her tongue slips in and out of his mouth; she bites his lower lip gently and he gives the briefest little moan before he gets hold of himself. Her kisses are soft and teasing, gentle, wet, and somehow hungry. Corvo wants to bear her down onto the ground between the bushes and… 

Someone wolf whistles.

“Go on, grab a tit! We’re waiting!”

María and Corvo break apart, both flushing as passers-by jeer at them. A man on the edge of the crowd leers at María and Corvo puts his arm around her. He could pick a fight, if he liked – he has plenty of reason. But María is tugging at his shirt.

“Come on,” she says. Corvo lets her drag him up the street, although he glares at the leering man as he goes. The stranger smirks. Corvo would dearly love to wipe that smile off his face, but María is pulling him out of the lantern light and ducking into an alley.

“I’m sorry,” she says. She pets his chest gently, smoothing down the wrinkles where she’d grabbed a handful of his shirt. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I can go back and deal with – ” Corvo jerks a finger over his shoulder as he speaks, but María is already shaking her head.

“No! I mean, I shouldn’t have kissed you. Out there,” she says. He can’t see her as well in the shadows of the alley, but he’s pretty sure her eyes are on his lips. Corvo is somewhat at a loss. Those kisses had been so _very_ worth it.

“What about here?” he asks. Her smile is a slow curve in the moonlight. She grabs his lapels and leans her back against the wall.

“This is better,” she says, and tugs.

Corvo kisses her again. It’s hot and wet and _fuck,_ she tastes so _good._ He’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch her, so he keeps his hands on her shoulders until she shifts impatiently against him and grabs them and presses them to her ribs and hip. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer and Corvo groans, pressing his body against hers. Her breasts are so soft against his chest; her thigh is round and supple in his hand. He pulls her leg up and she half-wraps it around him, standing on tiptoe. Her mouth is on his cheek, his jaw, then his neck, and she bites him gently and Corvo gasps and María whimpers against him, pressing her pelvis against his thigh. Her hips roll against his leg in a steady, lustful rhythm, her skirt hitching up her legs as she presses herself closer. Corvo can feel himself getting hard inside his trousers, and he worries that she might be upset about it but she just _rubs_ up against his growing erection _, oh fuck –_

“Pick me up,” María whispers in his ear. Corvo has a guess of what she means because he wants to do it so fucking much, so he stoops a little to fill his hands with her ass and hitch her up against him, then leans forward to pin her between his body and the wall at her back. María’s hands fist in his hair and she moans. She’s pressed right up against him now, the roll of her hips so hot against his dick, and Corvo is panting, rubbing himself against her. She clutches at his shoulders and kisses him again; Corvo’s face is tilted up now to meet those soft, wet lips of hers; she sucks his tongue into her mouth and then lets it go. Corvo thinks he might come in his pants, right here in this alley, just from the friction of her cunt against him through her skirt. Outsider’s crooked _cock_ , he wants to fuck her, wants to feel her wrapped around him, tight and wet and burning – 

He feels it when she comes, the way her body goes tight, her back arching against him, the way her cunt flexes and spasms right against his dick, even through the layers of fabric between them. María gives a little gasping cry, her head thrown back, her eyes clenched shut, and she shakes in his arms and rubs herself hard against him. It’s the most beautiful thing Corvo has ever seen in his life. He _burns_ with her pleasure, helpless and desperate for more, panting openmouthed as she gasps and shudders. He kisses her neck softly while she catches her breath.

“Corvo?” she says finally.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, his lips still pressed against her skin.

“I – I’m sorry – I’ve never – ” She sounds embarrassed, which baffles him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and turns his face up to kiss her. María makes a fragile little noise into his mouth, almost a sob. Corvo wants to touch her face, but he’s not sure she’ll be comfortable if he tries to hold her up one-handed.

“Put me down,” she says, and he does, a little clumsily, doing his best not to let her slide down the rough stone wall as he sets her on her feet. She stumbles against him and Corvo gives a breathless little laugh. _I made her weak at the knees? This girl? This beautiful girl?_ He wonders at the thought. But María has grabbed him by the shirtfront again and is turning him around, pushing him back against the wall of the alley.

“I want to return the favor,” she tells him. Corvo glances to the side, but no one is watching – they’re well hidden in the shadows beside a fire escape, and the street is empty.

“What are you – ” he begins, but María drops to her knees in front of him – _no, her skirt will get dirty!_ Corvo catches at her and she bats his hand away, reaching up to undo his belt.

“María, you don’t have to – ”

“I want to,” she says again, and she pulls his dick free of his trousers and puts it into her mouth.

Corvo only barely manages to avoid crying out at the feeling of it. She is soft and wet and she _sucks_ at him and – _fuck_. He knows he has to keep his hands still, he mustn’t thrust into her mouth, that’s rude, she’ll choke! But she pulls back for a moment and slips a slow hand down his shaft, slicking it with her saliva, and then puts her mouth back on him and her hand and lips and tongue all move in tandem and Corvo is helpless under her touch, unable to keep himself entirely still, his fingers scrabbling at the wall behind him because he’s afraid if he grabs her he’ll try to fuck her mouth out of reflex and he mustn’t do that and – and he was already so close.

“María, stop, I’m going to – _ah,”_ he chokes out, but she doesn’t stop, just takes him deeper, her free hand grabbing at his trousers, and Corvo comes hard, unable to hold it back. It’s his turn to cry out in pleasure – it’s a desperate battle to keep quiet, and probably a losing one. He feels her swallowing his seed and it goes tearing through him, how much he likes that, how good she is, the feel of her, oh Void, oh fuck _._ She sucks the last of it from the head of his cock and looks up at him, licking her lips.

“Come here,” he says, his voice little more than a whisper, and she surges up from her knees to kiss him. Corvo can taste his own spend in her mouth and _damn_ he likes that odd-bitter flavor on María’s tongue. His dick is still out, pressed between them, probably ruining her blouse, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“Corvo,” she murmurs.

“I want to see you again,” he says, twining his fingers through her hair. He almost regrets the words as soon as they pass his lips – he’s never so forward, _never_ so bold – but he really does want to see her. María presses her mouth to his; he can feel her smile.

“When are you off tomorrow?” she asks.

“Late,” he says regretfully. “My shift starts at noon. I’ll be done well after dark.”

“Will you be back near here?”

“I’m stationed at the palace this week. This is on my way,” he says.

“Meet me by the fountain at 10:00 tomorrow morning? I’ll bring you breakfast,” she offers. Corvo will probably be up early enough that a 10:00 meal will be an early lunch for him, but he’s not about to decline.

“Yes,” he says. María grins up at him in the moonlight.

“Good,” she says, and kisses him again.


End file.
